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This finding that almost a sixth of cat owners in the United Kingdom employ a leash – if you can deem it newsworthy to anyone besides cat lovers including me – brought forth a combination of emotions. As with everything that brings to mind my crazy small feline, Mackerel, they were a cocktail of remorse, bewilderment and adoration.

We’ll Kick Off with Remorse.

The group Feline Welfare has cautions against the usage of leashes – that is, leashes – due to how they induce cats undue stress by suppressing their escape instinct and making them feel cornered. I did not know this when I bought a harness for Mackerel, though I worked it out quickly by her reaction, which was to act lifeless the moment you fitted her with it. I hadn't acquired a lead without reservations, though somewhat superficially it was my public persona that in the end made me ditch it. This is what I noted in 2020 (in my publication A Cat-Filled Year, which was focused on how I welcomed Mackerel during an peak phase of parental longing and lockdown solitude):

“Sometimes I imagine myself from an outsider's view: a childless, thirtysomething freelancer with a cat on a lead that won’t cooperate, and I can’t help but note that this is not the way I imagined my life progressing.”

Cats Have a Way of Humbling You.

Cats have a knack of teaching you humility, felines, although admittedly Mackerel has forever remained an oddball. She drinks coffee, for instance, and on one occasion viewed the entirety of a particular film (approximately the fitting demographic suitability for that film, as I see it). Yet we must avoid stray off topic. The cause I felt confusion when I read about the a sixth of cat owners employing harnesses is because it led me to question: just who are all these obedient, obedient cats that docilely stroll on the footpath alongside their owners? I see them on the avenues at times and invariably marvel in disbelief. It's comparable emotion I have whenever I spot a image of a cat sporting a ridiculous outfit: that is to say, in what way does its person continue to possess their eyeballs?

Personally, It’s Really Not an Unreasonable Question.

Personally, it’s really not an unfounded query. Back when my baby was still a baby, I needed to visit an eye specialist clinic because Mackerel had clawed my eyeball while I was trying to nap. She perceived my rare moment of rest as an chance to pursue my blinking lid. Given what she’s capable of during my reclining, one can only imagine her response if you tried to outfit her as the pope. Therefore, I've embraced my absence of control over her.

Much Like Feline Welfare Organizations, I Possess Strong Opinions.

Much like animal charities, I hold definite beliefs about the liberties of cats to independence. Raised in the countryside, I was once deeply against to even the concept of an inside-only kitty, not to mention the ridiculous idea of a cat on a lead. It seemed to me that it went against the natural order. Subsequently, I came across Mackerel, who – after a premature parting from her mother cat and an alarming visit to a vet for spaying at which point he realized that she was missing a womb – flatly declined to go outside. This despite being given ample opportunity. The harness was our effort to acclimatise her to the great outdoors. Almost six years later, she is still hasn't cross the threshold of her own volition.

These Days, Consequently, I Strive To Refrain from Criticizing.

Nowadays, for that reason, I make an effort to avoid judging other cat people. Feline lovers enjoy criticize each other, possibly more than parents do. More and more people seem to be treating their pets like they are their actual offspring (made worse by the veterinarians who refer to you as “Mom” and, hilariously, persist in assigning them your surname). Several times when out and about I have peered into a infant bed looking for a newborn but instead discovered, with a start, a feline or tiny canine gazing in return. More alarming, the other day my husband and I were navigating an intersection and he pointed at a man wearing one of those child harnesses. “What a dreadful infant!” he remarked. I was on the verge of scold him when I looked closer and noticed that the carrier held not a child, but a little orange feline.

I Am as Guilty as Anyone.

I'm just as culpable as everyone of regarding my feline as a surrogate child. Yet I do wonder if, just as kids have fewer liberties than they used to, the same is happening of certain felines. An element of my being was glad when Mackerel chose to become an house-bound feline. The dangers facing cats – cars, predators, thieves, aggressive breeds, toxic substances – remain the same, but perhaps our guardianship has. Individuals aim to keep their precious “{fur babies|pet children